


Shadows of the Pine Forest

by Seanchaithe



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: An AU in which the twins spent their summers in Gravity Falls without any paranormal activity, Angst and lots of fighting, Bartender!Bill, F/M, Grumpy!Dipper, Human!Bill, M/M, Multi, Normal Summer!AU, Still expect some paranormal stuff though, alcohol consumption, also slight narcoleptic!Bill, death mention, mentally/emotionally abusive relationship mention, rocky relationships, rough beginning but it gets better I swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seanchaithe/pseuds/Seanchaithe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a young Dipper and Mabel Pines, spending their summers in Gravity Falls with their Great Uncle Stan was always the highlight of the year. Now, after a surprising turn of events, the twins are brought back to the sleepy town to fight for their Uncle's legacy, all the while struggling to uncover the events that occurred during their time away. With the help of a few unlikely allies, the twins will discover more about love, trust, and magic than they could ever comprehend. Of course, there is caution to be held- nothing is ever as it seems. After all, you never know what kind of dangers may be lurking in the shadows of the pine forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

o000o  

 

_Gravity Falls’ own man of mystery Stan Pines has been reported missing. Locals say the Mystery Shack, run by Mr. Pines, has not been open for nearly two weeks. He has not been seen in town during this time._

_“He just seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. It’s impossible!”_

_He was last seen wearing a black suit and white dress shirt with a dark red bowtie, a fez about the same color decorated with a yellow crescent shape, and black thick-rimmed glasses. Immediate family of Mr. Pines has been contacted, and is quickly becoming concerned._

_“Stan wouldn’t just desert his business. He imagined tourists as wallets with legs. They’re searching the Shack for any clues and nothing’s come up yet but…we’re trying not to assume the worst.”_

_“Besides, Stan’s tough! He can handle himself just fine. Yeah, sure he can…”_

_Anyone with information should contact the Gravity Falls police department immediately._

 

o000o

 

_Stanford Pines has vanished without a trace._

_“We’re here with former child star Gideon Gleeful, business rival of Pines. How are you feeling about all of this, Mr. Gleeful?”_

_“Well, it’s been nearly four weeks now. The rivalry game sure isn’t any fun with only one player. I’ll tell you one thing though, the town sure has been…quieter without the old man around.”_

_There’s been no sign of activity in or around the Mystery Shack since early July, almost a month ago. Obviously the longer he’s missing, the more concerned both his family and Police are becoming._

 

o000o

 

_Police are continuing to search for resident Stan Pines after being reported missing over six weeks ago. Local grocery store employee Jimmy Toss reported having spoken to Mr. Pines the last day he was seen in town._

_“He looked like he was in a big rush to get his groceries. Maybe even a little stressed. He didn’t want to play ‘toss me a dozen eggs’ like we always do, and the last time that happened was only because he had no hands. I’m worried about him.”_

_Police have been searching far and wide, but so far there has been no sign of him. No evidence of foul play has been suspected, nor sign of a struggle. However, investigators were able to identify multiple bottles of prescription heart medication. Mr. Pines’ family was unaware of the health problem, and it has been determined by healthcare professionals that without the medication, chances of survival are very slim. If anyone has seen or heard from Mr. Pines, please contact local police immediately._

 

o000o

 

_The investigation concerning Stanford Pines has officially been held. Police are drawing back until any further leads are revealed, but in the meantime, the case will remain open._

 

o000o

 

_Local businessman Stan Pines, owner of famous tourist trap ‘The Mystery Shack’ has been presumed dead by detectives of the GFPD. At this point, after almost several weeks, healthcare professionals say it is extremely unlikely that Stan will have survived without the necessary medication and medical treatment for his condition. The search following today will be one of body recovery. Our sympathy goes out to the entire Pines family for the loss, and to all the citizens of our small town who found Stanford to be not just a cunning businessman, but an overall charming man to whom we could all, in some way, relate to. A memorial will be held on September twelfth at City Hall for those who wish to say their last goodbyes and send their final prayers to our departed Man of Mystery._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm sure this prologue caught a few people off guard, but don't worry. It's all part of my master plan. If you liked it or have any helpful feedback please feel free to leave a comment. See you soon with the first official chapter!


	2. Drowning in Sorrow, Hope for Tomorrow

o000o 

“Ah yes, here we are. The last will and testament of Stanford Pines.”

Dipper shivered in the cold, dull office. A man with scruffy-looking stubble wearing a smooth black suit crossed the room to pull up a chair opposite to him. Face straight, he gently placed a folder down between them. It looked old and worn, and was beginning to yellow around the edges.

Dipper felt a warm, soft hand cover his own, and looked up to meet his sister’s glance. Her eyes were glassy, yet a small, watery smile tugged at the corner of her lips. It was obvious she was trying to hold it together for him. A lump quickly formed in his throat, but Dipper made a great effort to stay just as strong as Mabel was for him.

“Excuse me, Mr. Pines?” The man spoke, tearing Dipper’s gaze away from his sister’s. “I know this is hard, but there are matters to discuss.”

Mabel cleared her throat and gave her brother’s hand a quick squeeze. “We know. Please continue.”

The man opened the folder and rifled through the papers a bit, before finally pulling a single sheet out. Dipper watched the man’s dark eyes as they scanned over the page, and after a moment, they stopped. He made no sounds nor movement for a few more seconds, and Dipper shifted in his seat.

He always was uncomfortable in the presence of lawyers.

“I…I’m sorry, Mister…”

The other finally looked up from the paper. “Denver.”

“Mr. Denver,” Dipper continued. “What kind of matters are we talking about here?”

“Well. There’s the finances, insurance, estate-“

Mabel brightened just a little. “Oh right! I almost forgot about that one. When can we sign for the Mystery Shack?”

“Yes, about that…” Denver started, scratching at the back of his neck. “There was a small…issue regarding the estate.”

Dipper furrowed his eyebrows at that, and Mabel frowned.

“Wait- issue?” She wondered, squeezing her brother’s hand just a little tighter.

Dipper responded with a small, reassuring smile, before turning back to the man sitting across from him. “What issue? Surely it shouldn’t be too hard to collect and sign all the paperwork.”

“Well, that’s the problem,” Denver said, adjusting himself a little and settling back into the chair. It seemed he was just as uncomfortable as the twins at having to give them this kind of news. He sighed and folded his hands together on the table. “You won’t be signing any paperwork because the estate was not left to you.”

Dipper gasped, nearly choking on the sharp intake of air. “ _What?_ ”

“What do you mean it wasn’t left to us?” Mabel squeaked. She leaned forward a little to get a look at the paper the lawyer was holding, as if she didn’t believe him. Noticing this, he frowned and passed it over for her to scan with her own eyes. Mabel did just that, and her heart began to sink when she realized he was telling the truth. “But…if not us, then who?”

“Actually, no one.” Denver leaned forward to point to a section on the paper that was only blank space. “Wishes of Mr. Pines’ property are intestate.”

“In- intestate?” Mabel repeated hesitantly, rolling the strange word around on her tongue.

“Let me see that,” Dipper barked softly, and carefully pried the slip of paper out of his sister’s fingers. After looking it over for a few moments, he lifted his head with eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. “This doesn’t make sense. Stan wouldn’t just leave the Mystery Shack without a beneficiary.”

Denver hummed thoughtfully. “No other documents included in his will say anything about estate. This is it.”

Mabel worried her bottom lip with perfectly straight teeth, a result of having to wear braces throughout her pre-teen years. “So…what’s going to happen then?”

“Well, usually children or a spouse would inherit the property, but Mr. Pines had neither.”

“We’re the closest thing to immediate family he has,” Mabel said.

“Shouldn’t that mean we get the land?” Dipper added.

“Not necessarily. Legally, the government has control of the property and its investments now.” Denver glanced between the twins before his eyes darted to the sheet that Dipper was placing back on the table. He avoided both pairs of eyes, leaving the twins to wonder just what had him so uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Which also means they have the right to sell it.”

Mabel froze, eyes wide in disbelief and worry. “What…what are you saying?”

Denver released a tense sigh, which for some unknown reason really grated on Dipper’s nerves. If he had to hear one more piece of bad news or look at his sister’s heartbroken expression again, he was going to punch something.

“A few days ago, a young gentleman showed interest in the property.” Denver paused, waiting for the worst kind of reactions from the two. “He offered quite the amount for it.”

That was it.

Dipper’s heart plummeted into his stomach, and he jumped up from his seat so fast that it nearly toppled over behind him. “ _What?_ ”

“That can’t be allowed!” Mabel argued, looking for any sort of logic to bring to her side.

“I’m afraid it is. And unless you can top his offer by next week, the land belongs to him.”

“Next _week?_ ” Dipper repeated, voice steadily rising the more upset he got. He could already feel a massive headache coming on, and the rain wasn’t helping much either.

Mabel crossed her arms with a frown that was more like a pout pulling on her lips. She was willing to rise up to the challenge. “What was the amount of the offer?”

Denver hummed, and then rose from the table as well. Dipper remained standing until the lawyer came back with a small slip of paper and handed it to him. He looked at it as they both sat down, and he realized the only thing written on it was one very neatly printed, very _large_ number.

Mabel watched her brother’s face grow pale, and the longer he stared at the little piece of paper, the harder it was to bury her curiosity. After a few moments she couldn’t take it anymore and leaned over to look over Dipper’s shoulder. When she read the number, her complexion went just as white.

“You’re kidding…right?”

Denver frowned and straightened his tie. “Ms. Pines, I take my job very seriously. I rarely ever _kid_.”

“Hmph. That explains why lawyers are so grumpy,” Mabel huffed under her breath. Luckily, the man didn’t seem to hear it. Either that, or he simply chose to pretend he didn’t.

Dipper, on the other hand, shot her a light look while Denver’s eyes were elsewhere. He managed to regain the other’s attention by clearing his throat. “So, this man…did he say why he wanted the property so much?”

“I can’t disclose that inform-“

“It’s our uncle’s shack!” Mabel cut in, silencing the rest of Denver’s excuse. “At the very least we have the right to know what’s going to happen to it.”

For a moment Denver looked like he was going to groan in annoyance, but he kept up his professional appearance. Thinning his lips into a straight line, he answered in a flat tone. “He wanted to use it for some kind of research base. And…he did say something about renovations.”

Mabel’s eyes went wide as saucers.

“Oh my god,” Dipper breathed, slumping back into his chair. He rubbed his forehead, which was now pounding mercilessly.

“He’s going to destroy the shack!” The older of the twins wailed. “The only thing we have left of Grunkle Stan… And it’s not like either of us, even put together, have the money to top _that_ amount.”

“Mabel, calm down,” Dipper pleaded softly, and lightly tugged on his sister’s arm. “It’s okay. We’ll just get this guy’s information so we can find him and tell him to-“

“I’m not permitted to disclose any of his personal information, either. 

“Oh, come on!”

Dipper cleared his throat. “Look, Mister…”

_Remember the name. Remember the name. Damnit, Dipper!_

“Denver.” Dipper mentally face palmed. “Right, right. Denver, sorry. Uh, Mr. Denver…this building means everything to us. We spent some of the best summers of our life there.”

The lawyer’s facial expression didn’t waver, and if anything, he almost looked a bit skeptical. Dipper decided to amp it up a notch.

“Not to mention it’s pretty much the last thing we have to remember our uncle by. We lost him, and if we lose the shack too, we’ll both be devastated. I mean, more so than we already are.”

“Mr. Pines, I would love to help you,” Denver said, and for a moment, the twins felt a tiny bubble of hope rise to the surface. “But I can’t.”

Their hope deflated like a balloon.

“I can’t legally give you this man’s information. I’m sorry.” Denver checked his watch before gathering up the papers on the table and placing them neatly into the folder. “I have another appointment, please excuse me.”

Dipper and Mabel watched with quickly sinking hearts as their only chance of saving the Mystery Shack walked right out the door without so much as a backwards glance.

o000o

Mabel watched the windshield wipers go back and forth. Back and forth. Momentarily wiping away the heavy droplets that landed there before more came splattering down.

Her thoughts were blurred and distant like the lights of the town as they passed by, and Mabel found herself partially mesmerized. There was a certain chill in her spine however that wouldn’t go away, lingering ever since their meeting with that lawyer and causing goosebumps to rise on her arms for the umpteenth time.

Mabel considered asking Dipper to turn the heat up in the car, but as she glanced over at him, his hard face made her think twice. It wasn’t that she was scared of her twin, not in a million years. But even at this age they’d never had to deal with something this severe by themselves, and coupled with the pain of losing their uncle, was quite the baggage to carry.

Worries began to swim around in her head, nagging and pulling at her, but she forced them back. She wouldn’t let herself be dragged into the darkness, wouldn’t let the sadness and despair take control. Besides, she had to stay strong for Dipper. He acted as if he wasn’t torn apart inside, but Mabel knew different. She knew he was just as devastated as she was, but each had their own ways of dealing with the loss.

Mabel could see what was starting to develop, and she wouldn’t stand for it. She wouldn’t let herself be shut out.

“Hey, Dipping Sauce,” she tried, shooting him a watery smile even though his eyes were trained on the road. “You’re awfully quiet. What’s on your mind?”

He didn’t respond right away, which was to be expected. Though after a small exhale, he finally turned his head for just a moment and met her gaze. “Everything? Nothing. I don’t know.”

To anyone else it would have been a confusing answer, but after being inseparable for 23 years, Mabel spoke fluent Twin.

“I know exactly how you feel,” she replied, subconsciously pulling her sweater sleeves over her hands and bunching up the fabric for comfort. “All this lawyer stuff is starting to get really stressful. I wish Grunkle Stan were here. He’d know the perfect con that could get us out of it.” She forced a small giggle, but her mild attempt at humor did nothing to lighten the mood.

Dipper’s eyebrows sank a little. “If Stan were here, we wouldn’t be having to deal with them in the first place.”

“That’s true…” Mabel trailed off thoughtfully. She turned her head to stare out the window and watch the droplets run down the glass. She needed a distraction.

Spotting two drops beside each other, Mabel waited and watched to see which would reach the bottom of the window first. The little racing game continued for a whole series of rain drop pairs, and for a moment she was actually able to forget how heavy the weight of their situation really was.

Dipper on the other hand was still trying to swallow that painful lump in his throat, the one that made his eyes itch and face feel hot. The more he tried to focus on the road, the more unwelcome thoughts floated through the barriers of his mind. As much as Dipper was mourning the loss of his uncle, there were so many things about the entire situation that just didn’t sit right with him.

It was so un-Stan-like to just leave without telling the twins at the very least, to forget all his responsibility and leave it and everyone behind, to dump every repercussion and consequence of his past actions onto those that loved him the most. It wasn’t fair to them, and though he tried hard to conceal it, Dipper was angry. He was angry at Stan for all this, leaving them to deal with lawyers and insurance companies and now this business about the shack…

It was just too much.

How was he supposed to have any room to mourn? How was he supposed to feel sad about the loss if whenever he thought about Stan he started steaming? How could their uncle, the one they spent so many amazing summers with, up and leave them without even a notice? A goodbye?

Dipper forced himself to breathe and un-clench his teeth. He didn’t want Mabel to feel any worse than she already did. He knew she was trying to do her best to be strong and support both of them, but he also knew that to balance it out he had to offer some support as well.

Turning his head to look at her briefly, he noticed she was watching the raindrops like she always used to do when they were younger. Well, in their teens anyways, which was about the point in their lives when their parents started fighting. Dipper hadn’t seen his sister use the raindrop game in a long time, and to his surprise it brought a sting of pain to his heart.

He just wanted to protect her. From everything and everyone. He hated seeing her hurt, knowing there was nothing he could do about it. But then, sitting there in the cold silence wasn’t doing any good for either of them.

Dipper reached forward and clicked on the radio, turning the knob to search for a good station. This drew Mabel’s attention away from the window and pulled a little smile from her when an old _Several Timez_ song began to play.

“Dipper…” She said, smile quickly faltering as soon as it had appeared. “What do you think that guy is gonna do with the shack?”

The question took him a little by surprise, and Dipper found he could only give a completely honest answer.

“I don’t know.” His voice wavered a bit, revealing the depth of his uncertainty. “But that’s only if he gets it.”

“Where will we stay if he does get it?” Mabel worried. “There isn’t a single motel in town. We’ll have to move back to Piedmont and get jobs and a smelly old apar-“

“He’s not going to get it, Mabel.” Dipper argued, abruptly cutting her off. He tried to relax his fingers, which were now gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Mabel frowned and folded her hands in her lap. She stared down his profile, and he made no move to look at her. “Okay, but what if he does?”

“He _won’t_ ,” Dipper repeated, voice raised just a little. His sister huffed in response and he could see her turn away out of the corner of his eye. Dipper sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making sure to keep the other one firmly on the wheel. Raising voices and arguing wasn’t going to get them anywhere, and they both knew it. “I’m sorry, Mabes. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just…I’m so frustrated. And scared. And…ugh, just plain _exhausted_.”

“…Maybe you need a break.”

Dipper managed a huff of a chuckle at that. “Maybe we both do.”

Glancing out her window again, Mabel spotted a familiar building coming up on the right. They’d never been inside as kids, so naturally the curiosity was already welling up inside her. She turned back to her brother, some of the light having returned to her face. “Well then, what do you say we make these tomorrow’s problems?”

Cocking an eyebrow, Dipper shot his sister a look that suggested she elaborate more on that. Then, following her eyes, he realized what exactly she was implying and where they ought to go. Granted, places like these were never a favourite of Dipper’s, but he knew it would lift Mabel’s spirits a little and let her have some fun for just a little while.

“Sounds good to me,” Dipper decided, clicking on the turn signal right at the last second. As they pulled into the parking lot, the twins stared up at the place that had mocked them most of their teenage summers spent in Gravity Falls.

They parked, and Mabel very nearly hopped out of the car, a hint of her usual charisma returning. “C’mon Dip, let’s go get us some drinks!”

Dipper shut the car door and pulled his jacket further over himself as he followed his eager sister into the bar. 

o000o 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, hope you liked the first chapter! Better get ready for a whole lot more drama comin' your way! Remember to review and/or kudos if you liked it, thanks!


	3. Rock Bottom

o000o

The minute they walked into the building, Dipper and Mabel were greeted with the chatter of happy people and an overall warm buzz in the air. They sat down at the long counter, each in their own barstool, and were greeted right away with the bright grin of a young bartender who wasted no time in taking their orders.

“What can I get for you tonight, little lady?” He asked, slinging a rag over his shoulder as he eyed the older of the twins up and down. Dipper cleared his throat, but the bartender purposefully ignored him.

Mabel blushed, though she chose not to encourage the small flirtation. Normally she’d be giggling like mad, flipping her hair every which way to attract just a little more attention to herself- but this time was different. This time, she couldn’t even bring a bubble of a giggle to the surface. “A Shirley temple, please.”

The bartender’s demeanor dropped, and he frowned as though she’d made a bad joke. “Hm. Alright. And you?” He asked, turning to Dipper. He’d already pulled out a few of the ingredients for his sister’s order.

“I’ll just have a beer.” Dipper murmured, thoughts from earlier today still rushing around in his head. He tried to force them to the back of his mind, but to no avail. The frown he’d been sporting most of the day steadily deepened. The only thing that brought him out of the painful stupor was the light nudge on the arm he received from his sister. Blinking a couple times, he turned to meet her gaze. Mabel’s expression was soft and forlorn, a beacon of support and sympathy for her brother even in the dark recesses of his mind.

Dipper was barely able to return it. He opted to direct his frown at the man on the other side of the counter who, apparently, was now mocking his choice of drink.

“Oh, come on now. You should be a little more adventurous like your sister here,” the bartender chimed.

“Whoa,” Mabel cut in, suddenly shocked. She stared at the man in awe. “How’d you know we were siblings?”

The bartender chuckled and gave a light shrug. “Lucky guess.” Then suddenly, an incredibly wide grin split his face in two and he snapped his fingers before turning to address Dipper again. “You know what? I’ve got it. I’m gonna make you something and it’ll be a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises,” Dipper mumbled.

“O-hoh, you’ll like this one!” The man chirped, clearly oblivious to the other’s sour disposition. He waltzed off to the back wall where all different kinds of liquor sat on the shelves. Grabbing a couple bottles, along with a few other ingredients, he began to make the drinks. Dipper and Mabel watched with eyebrows raised as the man skillfully twisted the bottles around in his hands, pouring and stirring. It was mesmerizing in a way.

“Here you go!” He chirped, finally placing both drinks on the counter in front of the two.

“What is this?” Dipper asked skeptically. He eyed the brown liquid content of his glass. It didn’t look very appetizing.

The bartender sent him a little smirk as he wiped the counter clean. “Have a taste.”

Dipper still looked unsure, to wit his sister chuckled and softly shoved his arm. “Come on, Dip. It’s not gonna kill you.” After taking a sweet sip of her own cocktail, she leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Also you might hurt his feelings.”

Dipper was about to snort at the comment, when a sudden stab of pain in his chest caused him to freeze in place. An old image flashed across his vision.

_“Dipper, you wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings, would you?”_

_The brunet rolled his eyes. “Grunkle Stan, I’m not eating whatever that is. It looks like it would kill me.”_

_Huffing a bit, the older man placed his hands on his hips. He might have looked intimidating if it weren’t for the ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron he had tied around his waist._

_“Look Kiddo, I slaved over that hot stove for ten whole minutes making what passes as dinner for the both of you, all out of the goodness of my heart. It’s what’s on the menu, so eat up. No complaining.”_

_Dipper grumbled, hunching over his bowl. Mabel giggled at his antics, but made no move to touch her own meal._

_Dipper poked and prodded at it with his fork. He gasped suddenly as his hand slipped, sending a large chunk flying over the table. And of course, with his luck, it landed directly on top of Stan’s balding head. The old man whipped around, eyes wide._

_“Alright, what’s the big idea?” He demanded. Two beady eyes landed on a stunned looking Dipper, fork still in his hand. The eyes narrowed. “Why, I oughta-“_

_Another blob of mush hit Stan’s chest like a dart to a bullseye, causing him to stumble back a step._

_“FOOD FIGHT!” Mabel screeched, scooping up another handful to, this time, hurl in her brother’s direction. Dipper squeaked and ducked, but he wasn’t quick enough and ended up with the clumpy substance soaked into the fabric of his favorite blue vest. Stan began to laugh along with his niece, chuckles growing louder by the second._

_“Alright, you knuckle-heads. Let me teach you a thing or two about how to conduct a_ proper _food fight…”_

“Dip? You okay?”

Dipper blinked. The memory slowly began to fade, but that wasn’t near good enough; he firmly shook his head to rid himself of it completely. The drink still sat in front of him on the counter, and he scooped it up without a second thought, gulping it down.

Mabel and the bartender watched with opposite expressions as Dipper began to splutter and cough, mouth twisting up as if he’d just eaten something extremely sour.

“Dipper!”

The brunet wiped his mouth clumsily, setting the glass back down on the counter with a little too much force. “That was disgusting! What the hell was that?”

The bartender frowned at the mess the other had made, but said nothing of it. Instead, he calmly grabbed a damp rag and began to wipe the counter clean. “Well you weren’t supposed to chug it like that, genius. It was a caramel apple sangria. Meant for sipping, see?” He mimed holding a glass in his hand, demonstrating how to carefully bring it to his lips. He took a dainty, imaginary sip.

Dipper did more than frown this time; his lip curled upwards in a half-snarl.

“Maybe if you’d actually gotten me what I _wanted_ we wouldn’t be _having_ this problem.”

“Dipper _please_ ,” Mabel barked lightly, finally drawing her brother’s full attention towards her. She only ever raised her voice when she was upset, and Dipper’s heart had already begun to sink with the realization that he was the one who’d just made it happen. “This is supposed to be a fun night. Just…try to relax and enjoy yourself, okay? Just try?”

The longer he stared at his sister’s pouting face, the more he felt his anger and irritation melting away. He had to get it together. If not for himself, then for her. For Mabel.

“Okay,” he said softly, struggling to lift his lips into a smile of sorts. “I’ll try. Hey- wait a minute. Isn’t this your favorite song?”

Mabel immediately perked up. If she were a dog, her ears would have lifted high, listening intently for the familiar tune Dipper had referred to. Sure enough, the notes of a famous _Tyler Quick_ song began to register in her eardrums. Mabel almost squealed with joy, and she scrambled off her barstool.

“What kind of bar plays this type of pop music, anyway?” Dipper mumbled to no one in particular. His eyes caught his sister’s movements, and he turned around in his seat. “Hey, where are you going?”

“This place is dead,” Mabel scoffed, walking backwards out into the middle of the large space. “Time to liven things up in here! Am I right?”

Dipper’s eyes widened. She wasn’t going to-

Oh, yes. She absolutely was.

There, in the midst of tables and people, his crazy sister began to dance. She danced like no one was watching, when in fact, she was attracting many strange looks. Dipper couldn’t believe his eyes when she motioned for a young couple dressed up quite professionally to join her. Instead of averting their eyes or walking away as he thought they’d do, they simply laughed, shrugged their shoulders, and danced their way across the floor to join her.

That was only the beginning however; soon Mabel was surrounded by a massive clump of people, all jumping and moving along to the beat while attempting to belt out the lyrics of the song at the same time. Dipper couldn’t help it- he started to laugh. At this point he really shouldn’t have been surprised that his sister would do something such as this; start a huge flash mob, in the middle of a _bar_ of all things. Still, it was quite the sight to see _and_ hear. He was ninety-nine percent sure that no one in the mob of people actually knew all the words to the song.

“You should get in there. Looks like fun.”

Dipper jumped a bit at the sudden voice. It was far too high-pitched to match the person it was connected to, in his opinion. The bartender leaned against the counter and grinned at him, all golden eyes and angular jaw. His freckles seemed almost luminous against his dark, tanned complexion.

Dipper long blinked. Of course, this was all just professional observation.

“I’m fine. Dancing in public places is more my sister’s thing,” he said, fixing his eyes on the shiny varnish of the wooden counter. Anything to focus on that would draw his thoughts away from other things, especially since he’d just lost his best distraction to a mob of intoxicated, dancing hooligans.

The bartender hummed thoughtfully. “Seems you two are going through a bit of a rough time.”

Dipper blinked again, eyebrows furrowing, and he raised his gaze to meet the other’s. “I don’t really think that’s any of your business.” He immediately regretted the words the moment he bit them out, but the other man didn’t seem the least bit phased.

He’d probably heard far worse. He did work in a bar, after all.

“Ugh, sorry. I’m just…” Dipper sighed heavily, raking a hand through his thick mess of hair. There were no words he could have said that would come even remotely close to describing how he felt, and even so, he didn’t feel the need to spill his guts to a complete stranger. “How’d you guess?”

“Well, believe it or not, I’ve seen this kind of thing happen before.” The bartender used a hand to gesture out towards the sea of dancing people, Mabel still squished in the centre of it all. “Well, not this _exactly_ but…you know what I mean.”

Dipper followed the gesture with his eyes, and once they landed on Mabel, he felt a small tug on his heartstrings. Her face was lit up with pure joy, more than he’d seen her experience in over a month.

At least one of them was having a good time.

“Also-“

The bartender’s voice pulled Dipper’s gaze back onto him.

“-you’re probably the grumpiest person to ever come in here who didn’t get stood up or puked on.”

Dipper’s jaw dropped, and he immediately jumped on the defensive. “I am _not_ grumpy.”

“You kidding me? You totally are!” the bartender snorted, suddenly ducking down beneath the counter. Dipper’s eyebrows came together in confusion, and he crossed his arms on the counter as he waited impatiently for the other to come back up.

Who did this guy think he was, anyway? One minute he’s trying to be sympathetic and the next he’s insulting him? Dipper scoffed out loud when he realized he honestly didn’t know which was worse. After a few moments though, curiosity got the best of him, and he began to lean over to see what the other was doing down under the counter. He could hear glass clanking, but that was about it.

Not two seconds later that same bob of blonde hair popped right back up without warning, nearly clocking him in the jaw. Dipper grunted and quickly leaned as far back on his stool as he could without losing balance and falling right off of it.

“Dude, watch- wait. Is that…?”

“I figured you could use some something a little stronger than sangria,” the blonde explained, setting a glass bottle of something new on the counter. Dipper watched, slightly stunned as he pulled out not one shot glass, but two, and filled them both up with the translucent liquid.

“Are you even allowed to do that?” Dipper asked under his breath, head briefly turning to look around for any signs of management or authority.

The bartender tilted his head to the side innocently, as if he wasn’t aware of his own actions at all. The steadily growing grin that caused his lips to lift upwards said different, however. “Do what?”

“That. Drink. Aren’t you on the job?”

Face unmoving from its smug expression, the man replied, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Dipper shook his head and watched with eyebrows raised up to his hairline as the man in front of him downed the shot in one, clean gulp. Never before had he seen such a smooth shot taken by anyone, as if it weren't alcohol at all. If he was honest with himself, it was kind of impressive.

“Alright, your turn.”

“What?” Dipper murmured. Catching eyes with the bartender, he registered a darting motion that went back and forth between the other shot left and himself.

_Oh._

“I hope you’re not expecting me to drink that.”

“Well I’m not expecting you to sing to it.”

Dipper screwed his face up tight, expression suggesting that the man before him was certifiably insane. “What even- you know what, forget it. I don’t do hard liquor.”

He did nothing but laugh out loud at the brunet, throwing his head back as his shoulders bounced with each hard exhale. “Never mind that, quit being such a chicken and drink! It’ll help, trust me.” He shoved the glass forward a bit more so that it barely sat on the edge of the counter right under Dipper’s nose, which wrinkled as the smell wafted upwards and hit his nostrils. Unwelcome and, unfortunately, very familiar.

_“Grunkle Stan, we’re back!” Dipper called out, voice bouncing off the walls of the unusually quiet shack. “Soos gave us a ride home.” He closed the door as Mabel kicked off her sandals, tiny bits of sand flinging every which way. Setting his large beach bag on the ground, his ears searched for the sound of their Uncle’s familiar, gruff voice. No such sound could be heard. “Grunkle Stan?”_

_Mabel sauntered past him and headed down the hall towards the stairs, stopping only to look over her shoulder and meet her brother’s gaze. “He probably went to bed, Dipper. Try not to disturb him. Old people need their beauty sleep, Stan is no exception. If anything he could use a little more than average.”_

_With that, Mabel hopped up the stairs, taking them two at a time as she always did. It never mattered how tired or physically exhausted she was, which, after the day they’d had, was reaching its peak. Dipper didn’t follow after her, however. As the responsible -or, as Mabel liked to call it,_ paranoid _\- sibling, he decided to quickly check up on his Uncle. It never hurt to make sure everything was as it should be, after all._

_Dipper shuffled down the hall, old wooden floorboards creaking under his bare feet. The sound was oddly comforting. Light flooded out from the room at the end of the hall, which is where the boy made his final stop. Usually he wasn’t supposed to enter Stan’s office unless it was an emergency, but Dipper figured this was important enough._

_“Grunkle Stan?” He said softly into the door. “It’s late. Mabel and I are going to bed. Maybe you should take a break for the night?”_

_No response._

_Gathering his reserve, Dipper took hold of the doorknob and twisted, pushing the door open just enough for him to peek his head inside. His eyebrows immediately shot up; Stan was slouched over his desk with his back facing the door, the only movements were the rise and fall of his upper back and shoulders with the deep breaths he took_

_Dipper stepped into the room, begging the floorboards not to creak as loudly as those downstairs. The only source of light was a single lamp set on the large desk, which casted large and distorted shadows all around the room. Looking closer, Dipper noticed that there were all sorts of papers and folders and books scattered across the desk. Stan’s cheek was shoved into the largest one there. He snored softly, in too deep a sleep to even remotely register the boy’s presence._

_Dipper shook his head. At least he knew where he got his late-night study tactics from. Taking extra precaution so to not wake the man up, Dipper quickly snatched up a light throw blanket from the other room and returned to drape it over his Uncle’s shoulders and back. He didn’t want to mess with any of the paperwork, but out of his own orderly ticks he collected the plate, bowl, and mug sitting there with the intention of setting them all in the sink for tomorrow. He clicked off the lamp, and silently ambled out of the room on the soft pads of his feet. As he closed the office door behind him, he got a strong waft of something unpleasant._

_“Ugh, what the…” Dipper cast his eyes down at the dishes, scanning for anything rotten or out of place. One odd thing caught his attention- the mug had no sign of a coffee stain inside it. In fact, a couple drops of water were collected at the bottom. Dipper lifted the mug to his nose, and just as quickly drew back. Sure enough, the horrible stench was coming from inside. Dipper furrowed his eyebrows, briefly glancing back at the office door before training his eyes on the mug he now held a good distance away from his nose. “Stan…” His voice felt hoarse, though he hadn’t been yelling._

_Whatever his uncle had been drinking from that mug, there was no way it was water._

Dipper’s vision blurred. Not again. He couldn’t handle this. Not today. He quickly realized that at this point, he needed all the help he could get.

“Fuck it,” he grumbled, holding his breath and lifting the tiny glass full of repulsive liquid to his lips. He knew if he hesitated he wouldn’t be able to go through with it, so without even giving it a second thought, he jerked his head back and downed the shot in one go. His throat burned as if it were on fire, and his hand immediately flew to his neck as he began to splutter and cough for the second time that night.

“Whoa, whoa, take it easy!” The bartender suddenly chimed, a clear stitch of concern laced into his voice. He reached over to pat Dipper on the back, only to have his arm swatted away by the brunet. He drew back respectfully, holding his hands in the air as a clear indication of surrender. Then he folded them over his chest, found a comfortable leaning position against the counter, and waited until Dipper regained his composure. “That’s some pretty strong stuff. Maybe we should have started you out smaller.”

“Screw that,” Dipper nearly growled. He slid the shot glass back over to the blonde, who silently raised an eyebrow at the gesture. “Fill it up.”

The bartender made no move to do so. “I don’t know. I’m not so sure you can han-“

“Yes I _can_ ,” Dipper barked, successfully shutting the other up. “I can handle it. Just fill it up.”

With a sigh of defeat and small shrug of his shoulders, the bartender picked up the same bottle and poured another shot. This time Dipper didn’t even think about hesitating, swallowing the liquid faster than the first time around. And this time, only a few drops dribbled down his chin.

The bartender watched with pure amusement dancing in his bright eyes as Dipper slammed the glass down on the counter, body visibly wracked with shudders as the powerful taste lingered on his tongue. He smacked his lips a couple times before looking up at the man across from him, face still twisted contorted in disgust.

“Again.”

About fifteen minutes and three shots later, Dipper had told the other man about his entire high school experience, ranted about why the television show _Dragonfly_ should not have been canceled, and currently had his head on the counter, humming indistinctively. The bartender chuckled lightly, catching the other’s attention. Dipper looked up at him, and the two caught eyes.

“What’s so funny?” He asked softly, words melding together but still distinguishable.

The blonde grinned, leaning forward on the counter until the two were near nose-to-nose. “Nothing.”

“Ser…seriously, what?” Dipper pressed, eyes squinting as if that action alone would be enough to force the man to reveal all his secrets.

“What, what?”

The brunet chuckled, but still never broke eye contact. He continued to stare up at the other, eyes glazed over and finally, completely relaxed. “You’re sta~ring at me again.”

The bartender hummed and blinked a few times. He found he couldn’t continue on with their little staring contest, arms and neck beginning to itch uncomfortably. With an awkward chuckle, he settled on swiping a fresh new rag and wiping a few of the glasses clean. They’d used quite a lot, after all. Or- Dipper had.

“For some reason I just can’t shake the feeling that we’ve met before, that’s all,” he muttered as he stared off at nothing, hands moving robotically to clean and just keep himself busy overall.

“Hm. Maybe I just have one of those…those faces, y’know? ‘Cuz, I _definitely_ would have remembered…meet- meeting _yo~u_ before.”

The blonde stared at Dipper’s limp form, expression both incredulous and amused. He would say that he felt pity for the pathetic man, but that wouldn’t be true in the slightest. It was all too funny to be true. “That’s it, I’m cutting you off.”

Picking up the shot glass and bottle, he caught the other’s quickly falling face out of the corner of his eye.

“Wait, whaa~?” Dipper struggled to lift his head from the counter, dark chocolate curls completely mussed up and bangs falling in his face, which at this point was fully flushed. The bartender tried not to ponder on the fact that it was amazing look for him. “Don’t cut me off, I…I’m fi~ine! I can ev…even walk a s~straight line…see?”

Dipper squeaked loudly as his entire body weight dragged him down to the side, successfully pulling him off his barstool and into a crumpled heap on the floor. The bartender cringed at the sound of the thump, and slowly leaned over to peek past the edge of the counter at the groaning man.

“You really nailed the straight line.”

A single finger rose up into the air, while the rest of the body remained immobile. The blonde snorted; it wasn’t even pointed in his general direction, let alone at him specifically.

“Hey Dip, the dance floor was getting kind of- _oh my god what is happening here?_ ” Mabel, whose forehead was now beaded with sweat and whose clothes clung to her form, screeched to a halt at the sight of her mess of a brother. “Dipper? Are you _okay_?”

“Oh, he’s fine,” the bartender chimed, failing to hold back a snicker. “He’s just resting is all.”

Mabel gaped, eyes darting between Dipper and the man at the counter wearing one of the widest, creepiest grins she’d ever seen. “ _Resting?_ You call this _resting?_ Why the hell would you even let him drink this much?”

“Hey, I didn’t let him drink more than the legal limit. It’s not my fault he’s a lightweight.”

Mabel whipped her head up to glare at the man, red hot lasers shooting from her eyes while she bared her teeth at him. Luckily, it was enough to make him close his mouth for the moment. Crouching down, she was able to haul her brother up by his arms without much difficulty. Technically, it was like lifting her own weight.

“Mabe~el…” Dipper slurred as he struggled to stand, yet his tone was still more cheerful than it had been all day.

The older of the twins released a harsh sigh. “Come on, Dipper. We’re going home.”

Without even so much as a passing glance to the bartender, Mabel slapped a bill on the counter. “Keep the change, asshole.”

Mabel helped Dipper walk to the door, arms wrapped around him, and then she helped him put on his coat and hat. His knees wobbled and buckled underneath him, but despite that, all he did was stare at his sister and smile. She would have felt happier about it if he weren’t completely intoxicated, but still, it was nice to see after weeks upon weeks of nothing but frowns and blank, faraway looks.

The two of them left the bar and didn’t look back.

The bartender stood behind the counter still, alone once again, the bill Mabel had left on the counter clenched in his fist. His face was frozen into that of complete and utter shock, body paralyzed on the spot.

It couldn’t be. He wasn’t that lucky.

That hat. He’d seen it before. The symbol on the front, he recognized it. See, he couldn’t have cared less for names. That much wasn’t important. There was always something bigger, more powerful than a name. Hence the reason he never bothered to learn them. But if this was what he thought it was, _who_ he thought it was, then this was all a terrible mistake.

The dark skinned man grabbed up every cent of the night’s tips and rushed out of the bar without properly pulling on his jacket, frequently looking back, forth, and around as he walked along the dark, wet streets of the town.

Meanwhile Mabel’s eyes, which had solely been trained on the road, shifted over to the passenger’s seat for just a split moment. Dipper had passed out completely, forehead leaning against the window. Mabel sighed, returning her focus to the slippery streets ahead. Rain continued pelting down from above.

All she wanted was to fall into a deep sleep and not have to spend another moment in the real world, dreaming peacefully for all eternity.

But she was still awake.

Reality dug its teeth into her like a leech, slowly sucking away the light.

Stan was still gone.

o000o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, i'll admit…this one kind of got away from me. Writer's block isn't fun, especially when you're trying to write in a major character *wink wonk* I hope you liked it nonetheless!


	4. Old Ghosts and New Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No, you're not. You're having a pity party, and I'm crashing it."

o000o

Dipper spent the majority of the next morning hauled up in the bathroom. He had a splitting headache, but that was the least of his worries. There was always Advil to fix things such as that. The thing that concerned him the most wasn’t the churning of his stomach or the quaking of his legs. It was the blue ink scrawled across the inside of his arm.

Squirting more soap onto the already bubbly wash cloth, Dipper resumed his relentless scrubbing. The skin of his arm was already pink and sore, but he continued on with determination. Mabel had been there earlier to tell him he was overreacting, but he ignored her and continued to scrub.

“C’mon, Dipper. It’s not coming off. Just leave it be for now and wear a long-sleeve shirt or something. Maybe you’ll even change your mind about-“

“Mabel, there is no way I would ever change my mind about this.”

“Why not?”

“You know why not,” Dipper huffed.

Mabel bit her lip, wanting to say something but not having a clue how to word it right. After all, she knew she was pressing a sensitive topic. “You know Dip, it’s been a few years now. Maybe it’s time to...I don’t know…move on?”

Dipper finally looked up, causing Mabel’s heart to sink a little at the deep frown her brother was sporting.

“I _have_ moved on. Way, way on. So far on that even the _thought_ of-“

Dipper stopped himself. He inhaled deeply, unwilling to let past feelings resurface. His sister couldn’t begin to understand any of this, so there was no purpose in trying to explain it now.

“Just- no, Mabel.”

Mabel, deeply regretting entering such dangerous territory, subconsciously rubbed at her own arm. That didn’t go as well as she’d planned at all. Eyes darting to the door, she felt her resolve strengthen and cleared her throat. A little cough escaped, though she intended it to be somewhat of a laugh. “Heh, it’s well enough. He was kind of a jerk anyways.”

Dipper said nothing and continued to scrub, wincing slightly at the pain. Eventually she sighed and left him to his own devices. The ink did come off after a while, leaving no sign of any more offending numbers or dashes there.

 _Good riddance,_ Dipper thought.

o000o

Downstairs, Mabel set two mugs of coffee on the table. She knew Dipper would come down eventually; he had to if he wanted his laptop. Mabel mentally praised herself for her cleverness and her ability to sneak around the shack without being seen or heard.

She giggled. _Kind of like a ninja._

Suddenly, the phone rang.

The brunette rushed to it just as she heard footfalls coming down the stairs. Tucking her hair away from her face, she lifted the phone up to her ear and greeted the person on the other line. “Hello?”

Dipper raked a hand through his own chestnut locks as he entered the kitchen, suddenly aware that he probably looked like death itself. His lips lifted in a tiny, thankful smile once he spotted the lone mug sitting on the counter. Wrapping his hands around it, he took his place at the table. He figured perhaps a little time without his face shoved into a monitor wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Turning his head towards his sister, Dipper raised an eyebrow at her tone of voice as she talked into the phone.

“Really? And you can do that? Oh, thank you! When should I- tomorrow? Oh no, that’s perfect. The sooner the better. Yes, I’ll be in contact. Thank you again! Buh-bye, now.” Ending the call, she sighed happily before catching eyes with her brother. “What up, Bro-Bro?”

“Who was that?”

“The employment agency.”

Dipper’s eyes widened substantially in honest surprise. “You already contacted an employment agency?”

“I’m just trying to get ahead of the game! I mean, if we want to get that sum by next week I figure we should start right away. I gave them your information too.”

Dipper blinked owlishly. He’d always known Mabel to be grotesquely optimistic, but this was a bit of a stretch even for her. He slouched forward over his mug slightly and stared into it. “You really think we’re going to be able to do it?”

Mabel nearly dropped the phone, startling the both of them. Whipping her head around to face him, she fixed him with an incredulous look. “I don’t _think._ I _know._ I am not about to give up on the shack, and I hope you’re not either.”

A minute or two of silence passed between the twins after Mabel took a seat across from him, both sipping on their coffee without letting their eyes meet even once. Mabel felt she needed to do something, to fix her brother somehow. The calluses over his heart were thick, but there was always a way for her to get through them. There was always a special soft spot reserved just for her, and she knew that. It was only a matter of finding _something_ to say.

It was quiet in the kitchen without the radio on, as it always used to be. Stan would turn it on early in the morning to catch the news, which would wake up the twins and bring them downstairs. The three of them would eat their breakfast together and listen to the Gravity Falls Morning Show, laughing and shoveling food into their mouths.

Dipper couldn’t take it anymore; he could practically feel the waves of sympathy and worry coming off his sister, and he wasn’t sure he could endure the talk that would follow. He stood suddenly, picking up his mug and an apple from the bowl on the table, along with his laptop.

“I’m going to get dressed. Thanks for the coffee.”

Mabel worried her bottom lip, standing just as Dipper was about to disappear around the corner. “Dipper. I’m sorry. About, you know, what I said in the bathroom. I wasn’t trying to pressure you or anything, I just thought it might be a good idea for you to start getting back out there, y’know?”

“I don’t need to _get back out there_ ,” he replied, using his fingers to air-quote his sister’s exact words. “I just need to finish this thesis.”

Then he turned his back and headed up the stairs a bit hastily. He thought about Mabel sitting there alone at the table, holding her favorite mug in both hands to keep them warm as she always did. In his mind’s eye he could clearly see the expression of pity for him on her face, and it both saddened and angered him. He just couldn’t be around anyone else at the moment, knowing any little thing might make him snap. The best thing to do would be to just lock himself away in his room and continue working.

Work was always the best distraction.

o000o

A day passed.

Mabel went for her job interview and came back empty-handed. They’d told her she didn’t have the necessary prerequisites for a position in business. She scoffed at that of course, arguing that bookkeeping was a lame job anyways. Dipper, now with bags starting to develop under his eyes, still sat at his computer with a brain swarming with jumbled thoughts and ideas and a heart filled with too many emotions to process. He held his head in his hands, lightly massaging his scalp with his fingers. It felt heavier, somehow. So did his heart.

Here he was, an entire day having passed by completely, and he’d barely gotten a page done. The light from the computer screen glared harshly at him, forcing him to wince as he finally lifted his gaze. Outside, the heavy pattering of rain on the roof and trailing down the storm pipe could easily be heard. It had been raining without cease since the day they’d arrived. Dipper allowed himself to stop, if only for a moment, and rest every part of himself. Closing his laptop, he let his eyes drift closed and his brain shut down, gently placing his forehead against the cool wood of his desk. He hadn’t realized how hot his skin was until now, and he was thankful for the relief. In the dark, breathing softly, Dipper found himself slipping slowly into a place where he could block out the rest of the world, safe within the recesses of his imagination.

And then his bedroom door opened with an abrupt bang.

Dipper startled, nearly leaping from his chair.

“Alright, Dipper, I’m officially pulling the plug on this stupid hermit routine!” Mabel announced as she strut through the doorway and across the room, heading straight for the window. “You’ve been cooped up in here for over twenty-four hours. You need sunlight or else you’ll shrivel up like a malnourished plant.”

Dipper shrieked and shielded his eyes as Mabel yanked the blinds up, and she turned to shoot him a look of disbelief as he cowered away from the dull rays of sunshine. Clouds covered most of the sky, though there was still enough light to make the room substantially brighter.

“My god, it’s worse than I thought.” Mabel noted, wondering if she’d have to stop Dipper from pulling the blinds back down. _He’s out of the office chair at least._

“Mabel, what are you doing? I’m working,” Dipper moaned, rubbing his puffy eyes with the heel of his hand.

“No you’re not,” his sister argued while she fumbled around in his dresser. Raising an eyebrow at her actions, Dipper barely had time to process the pair of jeans that came hurdling toward him suddenly. Two mocha eyes peeked out from behind them, a little startled. Mabel frowned at him. “You’re having a pity party, and I’m crashing it. Now put those on, wash your face, and meet me downstairs in ten. You also might want to consider putting a comb through your hair.”

Dipper did nothing but blink as Mabel marched right back out the door, closing it behind her.

o000o

It was Dipper’s turn to watch the wipers go back and forth across the windshield. He was slumped down into the passenger’s seat, arms crossed and, though he would deny it, deep pout on his face. Mabel had insisted that he wasn’t ‘stable’ enough to drive, going by the fact that he appeared to not have slept for over 20 hours. It was only after receiving the rare, business-meaning Mabel look that he shoved his stubbornness aside and handed her the keys.

Mabel breathed deeply as she drove, enjoying being out of the house. She even had the window cracked just the tiniest bit, despite Dipper’s protest that he was getting sprayed.

“You know we’ve only got a few more days, right?” He said suddenly, voice crackling and slicing through the still silence of the car.

Mabel pursed her lips. “I’m aware, Dipper.”

Dipper shot his sister a curious look. He was often baffled by her positivity, but in a situation such as theirs, he had no idea how she was able to keep it up. She could be a little naïve at times, but she wasn’t stupid. She had to know that what they were trying to do was very unlikely to happen. He decided to drop the subject however, as Mabel’s brow was furrowed already and he didn’t want her getting upset while driving down a slippery, wet road.

Neither of them said another word until they hit the grocery store. Mabel sent Dipper to fetch a cart while she set to work on the list in her coat pocket. Speed walking down the fresh produce aisle, she completely missed the employee stacking assorted cheeses on a step-stool. Her and the employee made a small noise of surprise as their bodies collided, the employee wobbling on the edge of the stool. As soon as Mabel righted herself she caught the other’s arm, yanking him back into a place of balance.

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry. Please, here. Let me help you with that. Uh, I was just sort of rushing and- oh god, i’m so-”

“Hey, hey. It’s alright,” the employee said, interrupting her apologetic rambling. “Look, no harm done. See?”

Mabel sighed in relief and couldn’t help but smile a little at the way the employee held his arms out just so, a bit awkward but still charming. He was a bit of a lanky man, though there was an air about him that seemed...unusual, to say the least. “Thank you…” Mabel squinted her eyes, focusing them on the man’s nametag. “...Thomas. Is that a british accent?”

He hummed, a smooth and deep noise that vibrated in his chest and gently past Mabel’s eardrums. “Yes, that’s right.”

Mabel waited silently for more, but all the man did was stand and smile at her. It was when the silence was beginning to grow a little uncomfortable that she realized she wasn’t getting a more extensive answer than that.

She cleared her throat and extended her hand. “Well it’s nice to meet you then, Thomas. I’m Mabel!”

Thomas chuckled, shoving one hand into the front pocket of his dark jeans, while the other took Mabel’s offered hand and shook it. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Mabel studied his face, searching for something she wasn’t quite sure of. Attention drawn to his soft grin, she was willing to bet that he was, at the very least, a gentleman above all other things. Oddly enough, it seemed to be contagious and she found herself grinning right back.

“So, is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” Thomas asked after a few more moments of silence.

Mabel shrugged, eyes remaining glued on the dark haired man as she stared dazedly, ears still ringing with his honey-like voice. “Probably. But I completely forget what it is.”

Thomas blinked a couple times as if confused, though soon after he quickly cracked a smile and let a few chuckles loose. It continued on like that for a while, that is until Dipper came back and cut the exchange short, a few items already piled up in the cart.

“They were all out of 2% so I got...skim…” Dipper stopped before the two, eyes darting between them in confusion. His fingers absentmindedly drummed over the bar of the cart a few times as he waited in silence for either person to make a move to speak. No one did, so he cleared his throat albeit a little awkwardly.

Mabel seemed to perk up suddenly, as if awoken from a trance. “Oh, u-uh… Dipper, this is Thomas. He was just helping me find some things.”

If Dipper didn’t know any better, he would’ve sworn he saw a dusting of pink on his sister’s cheeks.

“Well, uh...great. Let’s head back then.” Dipper said.

He took a firm hold of the cart and pushed it past the employee, who at this point was still staring silently with both hands shoved into his pockets. Dipper shivered as he brushed by him, no hesitation evident in his large strides. Mabel followed closely after, but not before waving politely to Thomas and shooting him a small smile. Despite being completely stressed about everything else, she felt strangely calm. A warm feeling crept over her, that perhaps this time she’d met someone worth talking to a second time. Unfortunately, she knew Dipper wouldn’t share her opinion. He’d argue that it was too soon, and he’d be right.

Mabel sighed. _Baby steps._

o00o

“So you don’t think he could have been useful at all?”

“Dipper,” Mabel scoffed, flipping the windshield wipers off. The rain had stopped for now, but the twins knew it could just as easily start up again within minutes, seconds even. “I’m not going to whip out my flirting skills on some guy I just met simply for the sake of getting a job.” She felt a little heat rise to her cheeks.

Dipper hummed, turning his head to look out the window. “Might as well put them toward something useful,” he mumbled.

“Hey, don’t you give me that. Not after last night. Or need I remind you about your little drunken fiesta with the bartender?”

Dipper frowned, and didn’t answer. Mabel turned briefly to look at him before she had to return her eyes to the road. Lips pressed into a hard line, she continued on.

“Anyways. It wouldn’t even have been worth it. I mean, a grocery store employee? That wouldn’t make us a fraction of the amount we need.”

Dipper half-chuckled, though it wasn’t a nice sound. It was pained, and dripping with sarcasm. “Can we just accept the fact that no job is going to get us anywhere?”

“Of course it will! You just have to stay positive. Besides, I could never be bought for something as...menial, as that.” Mabel screwed her face up as if the thought had offended her. She pulled up into the driveway of the Shack, sighing at the familiar comfort the sight of it was already providing.

Beside her Dipper scoffed, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. “You know what? You’re right. I’m sorry. That was a stupid idea. Forget I said anything.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t do that.” Mabel turned to give him a look as she pulled the key out of the ignition.

“Do what? Say stupid things? Apparently I can’t, so you should probably just ignore me.”

Before Mabel could utter a word of protest, her brother had already slipped out of the car and shut the door firmly. He headed straight toward the shack, long legs keeping up a fast pace with his heart, which he could hear hammering in his ears.

Mabel scrambled out after him, paying no mind to the groceries that still sat in the trunk. “Dipper! Why are you acting like this? You were fine a few minutes ago! This isn’t like you.”

“Oh?” Dipper whipped around, only about a metre from the porch. His face was already slightly tinted red. “And what is? What _is_ like me, because- heck, I sure would like to know!”

“Dipper-”

“Tell me, Mabel. Tell me! What’s wrong with me? Give me my diagnosis.”

“What are you-”

“Because that’s what you do, isn’t it? You just have to _fix_ everything all the time. Like how you tried to fix your friends after they stabbed you in the back. Remember that? Like how you tried to fix mom and dad-”

“Don’t bring them into th-”

“But you couldn’t! You couldn’t fix them, and you can’t fix _me._ So just _stop-”_

 _“Dipper!_ Lower your voice,” Mabel hissed, briefly glancing around to spot anyone who may have heard their arguing. The open, empty forest space surrounding them reminded her that they no longer had tourists walking around the shack all day, every day. A momentary stab of pain coursed through her chest. She furrowed her brow, returning her focus to her brother. “Why are you talking about mom and dad all of a sudden? Are you still angry with them?”

“No, I’m not- ugh, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then what? _What?_ You’re mad at _me_ ? Mad that I dragged you out of your dark little cave? Or that I didn’t want to pimp myself out for a job? Or that I’m the only person around here who seems to care about getting the shack back? _”_

“God, Nevermind! You’re never going to understand!” Dipper groaned, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

“I can’t unless you explain it to me.”

“Oh look, there you go again, trying to fix it and make it all better. News flash Mabel, you can’t! Contrary to what you might think, the world isn’t all peaches and cream.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m some _ignorant_ _kid_ , Dipper.” The brunette snapped, tone sharp and suddenly very uncharacteristic. “I _know_ what goes on in the world. I watched two people who loved each other more than anything in the world split apart like fabric tearing. I watched my brother, the one person who matters most to me, spend years building up the most delicate, fragile trust, only to have it ruthlessly shattered by the very person it was meant for.”

Dipper felt something tug at his insides, and his stomach churned. “ _Don’t_ …” He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut to fight the warm liquid already forming there. _Talking about it...never talk about it...you promised._

Meanwhile Mabel was holding back tears of her own, though not as well. They bubbled over the surface, gently spilling down her cheeks. “And now my own grunkle, my rock and my role model of so many years has disappeared off the face of the earth. And I can’t do a single thing about it.” She paused, breathing deeply. “I won’t ever apologize for wanting to help whenever I can.”

Dipper did not open his eyes. He could hear the choke of Mabel’s voice, the teary waver that pulled hard on his heartstrings. He couldn’t look at her. If he did, he knew he’d lose all resolve to that sad, wide-eyed look yet again.

“I don’t need help. From anyone.” He turned then without saying anything else, making his way up the steps of the porch.

Mabel watched him take hold of the door handle, knowing exactly where he was headed. Back to that dark room of pity and loathing, and this time she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to pull him out of it. Grasping desperately at any topic to bring him back, she cried out, “Dipper, what about the shack?”

Stopping with one foot in the doorway, Dipper sighed deeply. “Give it up, Mabel. It’s impossible. We lost.”

The door slammed shut behind him, bouncing off the frame as it swung freely on its loose hinges.

Sniffing and licking her lips, Mabel tasted tears mixed with freshly fallen raindrops. She looked up at the sky. Sure enough, the rain had started back up again, and was now creating a spotted pattern on her sweater. Her fingers curled into her palms, clenching tightly.

“No. Not yet.”

o000o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Character development? I promise you guys the billdip aspect will also start developing soon, I'm so sorry for traumatizing you with this sadness. This is a really low point for the twins, so it'll start going up from here I promise. Anyways hope you enjoyed reading and as always, kudos and comments fuel motivation! :-)


	5. Goodbye, Hello

o000o

The twins saw a hundred faces that morning. A hundred people offering up their condolences, a hundred people come to- what? To pay respects to the recently deceased? Or perhaps, and this in Dipper’s opinion was the most plausible option, the people had simply come to sit and stare with expressions of such pity and failed empathy enough to make the Pines sick to their stomachs.

Mabel tried to keep her eyes focused forward, not meeting any gazes or responding to any of the pitiful looks. Most of these people she’d only known as a child, from summers spent galavanting through town or exploring the vast woods. Now here they sat, everyone from Mabel’s memories all in one room. They all looked so different. Though, of course, so did Dipper and herself.

Dipper’s tactic of avoiding the pressing stares of old acquaintances was substantially less subtle than Mabel’s. Anyone who dared to give a sympathetic head tilt or lip quirk of apology was met with a hard stare that was more or less a warning. _We’re not wounded animals. Quit looking at us like we’re helpless._

And then it was time for family statements. The twins had been offered the opportunity to go up to the podium and say a few words in honor of their uncle. The last chance for a final goodbye. They decided to write individual speeches, despite normally doing everything together. Each of their individual memories were just that; individual. Different. Special.

Mabel was up first. As she rose from her seat, Dipper quickly took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. A little surprised after their argument the other day, she smiled at him over her shoulder and squeezed back before walking up to the podium. Mabel swallowed as she looked out at the dark sea of people, not a splash of color or life revealing itself. Was this all there was now? Black and soulless?

What would happen when everyone went home? Would they resume their normal lives as if no tragedy had occurred at all?

Mabel cleared her throat. “H-hi…everyone.”

Silence. Staring. A hundred pairs of attentive eyes on her.

“Before I begin I just want to thank all of you for coming. I um…I’ve never been fond of funerals, myself. I always find them unnecessarily sad and heavy, so…instead of going on about how much I know we’ll all miss Stan, I’m going to tell you a little story.”

Mabel’s mouth was dry, and she wished she had a glass of water. She licked her lips briefly, determined to continue. The pauses between her words were full of a dull silence she couldn’t stand. Mabel looked to her brother sitting in the front row, and he shot her a watery smile. _Keep going, you can do it._

Mabel inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Our very first summer here in Gravity Falls, I admit I had some serious doubts about Stan. He was grouchy, he was sloppy, not to mention he put us right to work the day we arrived. I wasn’t too thrilled about having to spend the next few months living with this guy. Well, at first. There was this one day, when the three of us went fishing; Stan, Dipper, and I. Stan had made these ridiculous hats that were shrewdly stitched together and we absolutely refused to wear them. We went out in that old, rickety boat. Both of us were either clinging to the edge or to our lifejackets, which by the way were far too big.”

Mabel cracked a smile. “Stan was trying to teach us how to hook a worm when the boat hit this huge rock at the bottom of the lake, and the whole thing just tipped. Dipper and I both fell overboard into the water, which was probably the most terrifying experience of my entire life considering our parents never signed us up for swim lessons.”

Dipper and Mabel caught eyes as she paused, a look of recognition for the story embalming her brother’s face.

“That’s when Stan, this silly 60 some-odd year-old man, jumps in after us. Our lifejackets had slipped off at this point because they didn’t fit, but basically, he stuck us both back into the boat and physically pushed it back to shore since we’d lost the oars. We were both speechless for the rest of the day. The rest of the month was spent at the local pool, receiving day-by-day swim lessons from the very best. Stan may not have been the most affectionate person, or the most responsible. But if there was one thing I knew going home at the end of the summer, it was that Stan cared more about his family than anyone I’ve ever met. His ways of showing it may have been odd, but they were unique. There has never been a place that I have felt more at home than at the Mystery Shack, here in Gravity Falls with my great uncle Stan. He…he was a great man. I appreciated every moment I got to spend with him.”

Mabel wasn’t sure how to signal that she was finished speaking. So, she opted for a small mumble of appreciation toward the crowd and made her way back to her seat. When she got there, Dipper looked at her with glassy eyes and a few bubbles of liquid threatening to spill over the edges.

“That was nice, Mabel,” he said, voice low and a bit choked.

“Thanks,” she whispered. Her eyes burned with unshed tears as they followed Dipper up to the podium for his turn to speak.

All was quiet once again, the very few murmurs and stirs of movement dimming down rather quickly as Dipper took his place at the front of the room.

“Well…” He began, clearing his throat as quietly as he could. “I don’t know if I can top that, but uh…” Mocha eyes shifted back and forth, taking in every member of the crowd sitting before him. Gaze met by a hundred others, Dipper gripped the edge of the podium a little too tightly, knuckles going pale. “I just want to say that…Stan really would have appreciated this. All of you being here, not only to mourn his passing, but celebrate his life.”

Dipper paused, organizing his scrambled thoughts. He tried to stare at the back of the room rather than the sea of people, and that was when he saw it move. A flash of color amongst the dreary, dull blackness, rising up out of the dark cloud to stand on its own.

Dipper blinked.

A man, dressed in a disrespectfully vibrant yellow vest in the back row left his seat, blonde hair shining just as bright. He drifted smoothly through the rows and down the aisle, approaching the door. Eyes following him, Dipper frowned and waited for a moment before continuing.

“Stan was someone who you knew would always be there, someone you could count on. Whether that was teaching you how to fight back to the bullies at school, or giving a really great pep talk that could brighten anyone’s spirit, or just lending a listening ear whenever you needed it. Stan had…had a…a way of…um…he, uh…” Dipper trailed off, eyebrows furrowing at the sight at another, more familiar looking man joining the other by the door. Sudden alarm and suspicion rose within him, and with one last glance to the crowd and a confused-looking Mabel, he stepped away from the podium with one last mumbled comment. “I’m sorry.”

“Dipper…” Mabel murmured, worry laced into her tone as she watched her brother practically leap down from the podium, obviously in some kind of a hurry.

But to do what?

She reached out to him as he passed, but he merely whizzed by her. Of course, she wouldn’t be brushed aside so easily. Curiosity getting the best of her, she followed him up the aisle toward the door where it looked as though two other men had just exit through. There were quiet mumbles and murmurs among the crowd as the twins quickly pushed through the door, leaving everyone to make their own assumptions. Most were content to assume that Dipper and Mabel were simply too distraught to continue the service.

Once outside, Dipper stopped and glanced around frantically. There was no sign of either of the men, besides the faint clicking of dress shoes on the linoleum floor. Ears picking up the sound, Dipper resumed the chase, darting down the corridor. He could hear Mabel calling out his name some ways behind him, but he couldn’t afford to stop.

Rounding the corner a little too quickly, Dipper nearly stumbled over his own two feet as he skidded to a sudden halt. It wasn’t enough to fully stop him however, and he found himself colliding face-first with a long torso. Surprisingly enough, the man he’d crashed into didn’t crumble under his weight. Eyes wide, head spinning, Dipper could only register the color yellow.

“Whoa! Easy, kid.”

Dipper’s ears rang with the grating, somewhat familiar voice. His head shot up, cheeks tinted red in embarrassment. Mocha eyes met with icy blue ones that stared down at him with amusement twinkling within. Then, in a split second, something else flashed behind the amusement; recognition.

The man’s lips stretched into a wide grin. “Ah, it’s you. Nice to see you again, Pine Tree.”

“You know this man?”

At the sound of the other, much deeper voice behind him, Dipper jerked up and took a few clumsy steps back to regain his own personal space. “Mr. Denver?”

The dark-haired man walked around to stand before him, thick eyebrows furrowed. Deep lines creased his forehead as he frowned. “Mr Pines. The service is over already?”

“What are you doing here?” Dipper asked as politely as he could under the irritably confusing circumstances, purposefully brushing past the other’s question.

“We came to pay our respects, of course,” the blonde man answered before Denver could say anything. “As well as handle a bit of business.”

“Business?” Dipper wondered, eyes narrowing.

“Dipper!”

Perking up, he turned to see Mabel huffing and puffing her way over to him.

“Mabel, what are you doing?”

“Looking for you! Why did you run out like that? You had me worried.” Mabel’s eyes shifted to glance behind her brother, finally catching sight of the other two men standing with him in the hall. Eyes narrowing, her lip quirked into a lazy sneer that didn’t fail to ignite even more confusion in her brother. “Why are _you_ here?”

“Hm. Still a bit sour about the other night I see,” the vibrantly-dressed man said, crossing his arms as his lips pulled into a small grin.

Dipper blinked. “Wait a second. The other night…?”

“Don’t remember me? Not surprising. You had quite a lot to drink.”

Dipper’s eyes widened in realization, cheeks aflame. Grounding his teeth, his hands clenched into fists. “You…you’re that bartender.”

“There it is! Now, we haven’t exactly met formally, have we? Name’s Bill. I’m going to assume the ink on your arm faded before you got a chance to call me.”

Dipper absentmindedly rubbed at the arm in question, no longer raw from all the scrubbing. “As if I’d ever- you know what, nevermind. If you two are just paying your respects as you say, then why are you out here conspiring in the hall?”

“Like I said before, we’re discussing business.”

“What business?” Mabel interjected, eyes still narrowed at the blonde. There was no way she’d be letting him off the hook that easily, especially not since he’d developed a bad reputation in her books.

Mr. Denver responded quickly, adjusting his glasses on his nose as he did so. “Classified business.”

“I’m making a purchase,” the man- Bill said, as if secrecy held no importance to him.

Dipper, catching on to his words rather fast, took a step toward him. “What. Purchase.”

“Dipper…?” Mabel worried. It was very rare to see her brother this angry, with his shoulders all tensed up and shaking fists, and though she couldn’t see his face, she knew he was glaring daggers at the man before him. The worst part was that she had no idea what had suddenly gotten him so worked up.

Bill, smirk growing ever wider, had the audacity to meet Dipper's stare with his own, even leaning his face forward and lowering it to meet his eye level. “Well, judging by your white knuckles I’d say you already know.”

“You bastard.”

“Dipper what’s wrong?” Having had enough of the meaningless conversation and still getting no answers, Mabel grabbed her twin’s shoulder and pulled him back to her. “What’s going on here? What does he mean by…purchase?”

And then, without any explanation from any of the three, the only possible answer clicked in Mabel’s mind. She released her grip on Dipper, instead turning to look at Bill. His smug expression caused her blood to boil. “ _You? You’re_ the one who’s taking the shack?”

Denver frowned at Bill. “Sir, I advised you it would be unwise to disclose this information to the Pines-”

“Relax,” the blonde scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. “Nothing’s changed. What can they do?”

Mabel shrugged her sleeve up, hand clenched in a tight fist. “Come a little closer buddy, i’ll show you what the Pines can do!” Before anyone could blink she reached out for him aggressively. “How _dare_ you even _come_ here after this!”

Luckily, Dipper was able to catch her arm and hold her back from clocking him in the face. “Mabel, calm down!”

“He’s the one, Dipper! The one who’s taking Stan’s memory from us! Let _go of me!_ ”

Denver shuffled awkwardly, eyes shifting up and down the hallway. “Mrs. Pines, please try to calm down. The level of your voice will certainly draw attention.”

Dipper, silently agreeing, pulled Mabel close and enveloped her in a tight hug. “Shh. I know. It’s okay, Mabes.” He suddenly turned his steely gaze onto Bill. “I want to talk to you. Alone.”

The lawyer cleared his throat. “I’m afraid that won’t be-”

“It’s alright. I’ll humor him.” Bill shot a toothy grin at Dipper, tilting his head slightly. It was a little more than unsettling. “Color me curious.”

Mabel had managed to worm her way out of her twin’s grip by that point, and stepped up toward Bill. “I’m coming too.”

“No, Mabel.” The girl gave him a piercing look that said, _try me_. He placed a hand on her shoulder, turning them away from the others. “I need you to go back and save the service. We owe it to Stan. He deserves a proper goodbye from the town.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t let this guy ruin it.”

Mabel’s eyes shifted between her brother and the blonde in question, before her face finally softened. “Okay. But Dipper...this is our last chance.”

“I’ll get it back,” he assured, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze. “I promise.”

Squaring her shoulders, Mabel headed back to the parlour with one last glare to Bill and a look of betrayal to Denver.

“Let’s go,” Dipper said, jerking his head toward Bill. He didn’t wait for a confirmation before turning and storming off through a separate door.

The man grinned, practically skipping after him. “Following you.”

Completely disapproving of the situation but left without any control over it, Denver proceeded to grumble under his breath and follow Mabel back to the service. He threw one last look over his shoulder as the door closed behind Bill, wondering what exactly he was up to.

As soon as it was only the two of them, Bill couldn’t help but snicker. “What happened to that adorable little hat of yours, Pine Tree? Didn’t match the suit?”

“Shut up,” Dipper snapped, turning on the other abruptly. His face was warm, but he was filled with too much anger to think on it much. “This has nothing to do with the other night, alright? So just forget about it. This is strictly about the Shack. Why do you want to buy it?”

Bill crossed his arms, pouting. “Hmph. Alright fine, we’ll skip the pleasantries. As it happens, that old pile of wood and shingles is right in the middle of a very famous forest. Are you aware of what it’s famous for?”

Dipper blinked. This guy wasn’t just annoying, he was also full of weird surprises. “Just…stories. Legends. Stupid fairytales.”

This earned a laugh from the blonde. “Not as stupid as you might think. I came to this town _because_ of the stories. As it is, working as a bartender is only a temporary means to pay rent and whatnot. I consider myself a legitimate paranormal investigator.”

“A…what?” Dipper raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding me?”

“Of course not! I take my work very seriously, and that shack is smack dab in the middle of a conspiracy! It’ll be the perfect base for my research.”

“Can’t you just find somewhere else to do that stuff? Or better yet, get a real career.”

“You telling me you don’t believe in the supernatural, Pine Tree?” He challenged, leaning forward.

“Stop calling me that. My name is Dip-”

“You’re telling me, that you’ve _never_ seen _anything_ weird around this town?”

Dipper paused, unable to answer. It would be a lie to say he’d never seen _anything_ weird, but there was nothing overtly supernatural about the town. Nothing even worth looking into. Nothing worth losing the Shack over.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “None of that matters. That shack belongs to us. We’re not giving it up without a fight. And I swear that with all the legal conflict you’ll have to deal with, there won’t be any time for monster hunting.”

Instead of being affected by the threat, Bill actually seemed _amused_ , and grinned widely. “Hmm. You sure are set on keeping that place, aren’tcha?” He paused briefly to rub his chin as if in deep thought, really milking it as Dipper glared at him. “I’ll tell you what, Pine Tree-”

“Dip-”

“-Why don’t we meet somewhere tomorrow, and we can talk some more about this. It’s a day of mourning after all. We wouldn’t want to spoil the old man’s funeral with pointless banter, now would we?” Dipper’s mouth opened, and closed silently a moment later. He hated to agree with the guy, but he knew he should be at Mabel’s side, paying respects and honouring the memory of their uncle. Having to barter with some asshole was really not part of the day’s plans. “How about that place, Greasy’s? Say, ten o’clock? Breakfast is on me.”

The playful wink Bill shot him made his stomach churn, and he directed his pointed glare at the floor. “Fine. Ten o’clock.” Before the other man could say anything else, Dipper quickly strode past him and out the door, eager to get away. There was less risk of him losing control and decking him in the jaw, that way.

“See you then, Pine Tree!” Bill called after him. He could hear Dipper’s growl of frustration from somewhere down the hall, and it made him chuckle.

Once he had somewhat stopped steaming, Dipper stepped into the parlour. Neither Denver nor Bill had followed him in, so he could only assume they’d left. Dipper attempted to shrug the whole encounter off and made his way over to his sister, who was standing at the front of the room with a line of people waiting to offer their condolences. He made his way up the aisle to join her, regardless of the fact that hearing ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ repeatedly was the very last thing he wanted to do.

When Mabel raised her head and caught eyes with him, a look of relief washed over her. He stood by her at the front of the line, ready to shake hands and offer robotic thanks to the citizens one by one.

“Well, are you?”

“I’m sorry, are we what?” Dipper blinked. He’d already lost count of how many hands he’d shaken, having tuned out the voices as well.

“She wants to know if we’re re-opening the Mystery Shack,” Mabel informed him, appearing uneasy.

The elderly woman standing before them smiled, intentions obviously from the heart. “It would be so lovely to have it up and running again, don’t you think?”

Dipper scratched the back of his neck. “Um, we hadn’t really considered it.”

“Well, there’s something to consider then, hm?” She patted them both on their arms. “I’m certain your Uncle would appreciate it.”

Mabel made an effort to smile back, though it was clearly strained. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Take care of yourselves.”

The twins watched the woman leave, thoughts stirring in both minds. Could they really do it? Re-open the Mystery Shack? And even if they could...would they? At the moment the thought was too much for Dipper to ponder on, so he shoved it to the back of his mind. In the corner of his eye, he could see the look on his sister’s face that told him she was doing the exact opposite - Mabel looked completely devastated by the notion. Then again, she didn’t know about the meeting they would have with Bill the next day. Her brain was probably whirling with the likelihood that they would be bought out.

Dipper decided not to say anything about the fact that it was negotiable. Not just yet. He didn’t want to get her hopes up too high, just in case. The problem, however, was that he could feel his own hopes rising. Slowly but surely, bit by bit, no matter how low the chances of bargaining with this guy were.

He realized, with a chuckle and shake of his head, that he just couldn’t help it.

Mabel had definitely rubbed off on him after all those years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is officially back in business! There won't be regular updates, but i'm finding more time to work on it these days. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and as always comments and kudos are super appreciated. Stay tuned, because more is definitely on the way!


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